Resident Evil: Prologue
by BizzyLiz
Summary: How could he have fallen so far, so fast? Abandoned by the organisation he believed in, ashamed to face the family he loves, can a simple twist of fate offer a new life? A oneshot exploring Chris Redfield's situation before he joined the S.T.A.R.S.


**Resident Evil: Prologue**

Disclaimer: _I do not own Resident Evil or any of the characters and, unfortunately for me, I do not make any money from writing about them! This is very different from my first attempt at a RE story if you happen to have read that one – no blood and guts here I'm afraid! Chris is my favourite RE character, and I wanted to explore his situation before he joined the S.T.A.R.S in a little oneshot. Let me know if you like it (or not!), constructive criticism is always appreciated._

Chris Redfield was awake, but he couldn't open his eyes. He sensed the weight of his body pushing down on the worn springs of an uncomfortably soft mattress that barely supported him. He sensed the slight irritation of rough, damp cotton sheets against his skin. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he almost gagged at the acrid stench of sweat. A dull, throbbing pain enveloped his head and a vague taste of vomit burned the back of his throat.

Through his reverie, he heard the distinct sound of an engine come to an abrupt stop close by. This was followed by the sound of footsteps and a high pitched ring that seemed to reverberate painfully within his skull. He breathed in again and moaned, trying to ignore the sound. There was another ring, longer this time. Its grating, high pitched tone was impossible to ignore. Chris clenched his rigt fists, gathering the dirty sheet between his fingers and prising it away from the thinning mattress.

Another long ring was this time was followed by a heavy thumping sound. Finally, he prised open his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings. The room appeared to spin, all colours merged into an indefinite streak. It was nearly a full minute before his vision cleared fully, and he scanned the dark room for something familiar. He felt confused, there was nothing immediately recognisable about this room. To his left, he saw a vertical strip of white light that couldn't be contained by a pair of thick, dark brown curtains with a garish pattern that could not have been in fashion for at least twenty years.

The thumping continued.

"For God's sake...!" Chris muttered as he pushed himself up to a seated position. He rotated his body to the edge of the mattress. As he did so, blood seemed to rush to his head, making him feel nauseous. The bare soles of his feet planted themselves firmly on the thick woollen carpet. He brushed his right hand through his unruly hair and coughed, bringing forth the taste of cigarettes and strong alcohol.

A muted moan startled him. He turned his head and saw the figure of a body virtually cocooned within the sheet on the bed behind him. Chris closed his eyes and shook his head, silently remonstrating himself.

The intensity of the thumping sound was increasing. Whatever was making the noise was persistent.

"Dammit, I'm coming!" Chris muttered.

With a great effort he stood up. Chris suddenly realised that he was completely naked. He noticed a pair of crumpled jeans on the floor next to the bed. As he bent forwards to pick them up, he was nearly overcome by another swell of nausea. He gulped and pulled the jeans up over his exposed clammy skin and tightly fastened the leather belt. He made his way towards the door at the corner of the room, almost tripping over an unlaced boot lying abandoned in the middle of the floor. He pushed open the door and was temporarily blinded by a blast of bright sunlight. As his eyes adjusted, he discerned the outline of a small figure through an opaque glass door that was situated at the end of the short, narrow corridor directly in front of him. He walked slowly down the corridor towards the door, each step awkward and barely balanced.

Upon reaching the door he flicked open a small metal latch and turned the handle. He stepped back as he slowly pulled the door towards him, exposing himself to the outside world. Standing directly of him was a smiling, youthful face.

"Chris! I've been trying to call you for weeks! I was beginning to think the worst so I..."

Chris stared at the small female figure standing in front of him. She had long red hair and bright green eyes, exactly like his own. "Claire." Chris said, his voice flat.

"Well, don't look so pleased to see to your little sister." the young woman replied, visibly deflated by his response.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I just didn't know that you were coming, you surprised me that's all." He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. "It's great to see you little sis. It always is."

Claire reciprocated his affection and gently patted his back. She then took a step backward and studied her older brother, starting at his head and slowly making her way down to his feet. She noted that he hadn't shaved in days, and there appeared to be the remnants of a bruise on his right eye. He also seemed to be thinner and slightly less muscular than she remembered.

"Did you party last night or something?"

"What?" Chris snapped back. "Why do you ask?"

Claire slapped Chris playfully on the arm as she barged past him, her intention to go inside. "You really should take a shower, it is past midday you know." she teased as she made her way down the small corridor towards an open door on her left that lead to a small lounge area.

"Err...Claire...err...just hang on a minute. I wasn't expecting...."

Chris closed the door and quickly followed Claire.

"I've got so much to tell you Chris, about college, my new bike, this great guy I've met who I know you'll disapprove of but..."

Claire stopped dead as her eyes scanned the lounge. Cushions scattered across the floor were interspersed with pizza boxes and take away cartons, a thin layer of furry mould covering the remnants of their former contents. A number of dirty cups and glasses were collected around the foot of a pale blue leather couch. She looked beyond the lounge towards the open plan kitchen, where she noted the presence of dirty plates and empty liquor bottles piled haphazardly around the sink. "What's with your apartment...?"

"I gave the cleaner some time off." Chris replied with a fake smile.

"Don't make fun of me. This isn't like you. You don't live like this."

"I'm going to clean this place up today, I've been busy this week and...can I make you a coffee or something?"

"Don't try changing the subject. This is..."

Claire stopped abruptly as she became aware of the small, partially clothed figure of a woman standing in the lounge doorway. The woman had dishevelled, garishly dyed red curly hair that didn't match the colour of her dark brown eyebrows. Her black mascara was smudged around her eyes, and her lips retained only a feint trace of the bright pink lipstick she had worn the previous night.

Chris sunk down on the couch. The worn leather creaked.

The woman looked first at Chris and then at Claire. Chris was now staring at the floor, trying to avoid her gaze.

The woman just rolled her eyes. "I'll get my things." she snorted. Her voice had the distinctive rasp of someone who had been smoking for many years.

Claire stared silently at the woman as she retrieved her shoes, one from under the couch close to Chris, another was next to a small table pushed against the wall in the kitchen area. She disappeared briefly into the bedroom, reappearing a few moments later while fastening the clasp of her short black skirt. She slipped on her shoes.

"Nice shoes." Claire quipped sarcastically, staring at the other woman's patent red stilettos that were accessorised with a small diamante heart on the ankle clasp. "_What are you doing with this woman Chris?_" Claire said to herself.

The woman rolled her eyes and then looked at Chris. "Don't worry, you don't need to be polite and ask for my number, I know how this works. Besides..." she smiled coldly. "I prefer my men to stay awake if you know what I mean."

Chris looked awkwardly at Claire and shrugged his shoulders.

The woman made for the front door of Chris's apartment and paused. She turned to face Claire. "Be careful with that one honey. He's broken."

"My brother's just fine, thanks." Claire retorted. "Close the door on your way out would you?"

The woman huffed, turned on her heel and disappeared. A moment later, the front door slammed shut. A small picture on the wall of a much younger Chris and Claire accompanied by two older figures – a man and a woman - rattled, threatening to fall away from the hook it was precariously hung upon.

Claire breathed in sharply. "So...what's going on here?"

Chris stared at her, feigning confusion.

"You're living like a pig, you look like hell, you're drinking and the company you seem to be keeping..._what's going on_?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you need to worry about. I've just been a little out of sorts and..."

"Don't lie to me Chris! I'm not a kid anymore!" Claire almost shouted, making Chris flinch.

Claire angrily stomped into the bathroom. Balancing precariously on the dirty white porcelain of the wash basin was a shaving mirror spattered with toothpaste and dried soap. She reached out for the mirror, shaking her head as she knocked over a small, empty glass whisky bottle. The bottle smashed as it made contact with the hard porcelain, and variably sized glass shards scattered across the floor tiles.

"What are you doing in there?" Chris called out hoarsely. The sound of his own voice intensified his headache.

Claire stomped back into the living room. "Look at yourself!" she ordered, holding the mirror directly in front of his face.

Chris turned his head to the side and closed his eyes.

"I said look at yourself!"

"Claire..." he looked up at his sister, his eyes almost pleading. "I can't do this right now. I have a headache and..."

"Just do it!"

Chris unclenched his eyes and looked at the reflection in the small mirror held in front of him. There were dark circles under his eyes from weeks of late nights and unsettled sleep. The stubble on his chin and cheeks and his unkempt hair made him look like a man in his late thirties rather than early twenties.

Claire inhaled deeply, calming herself. She gently sat down on the sofa next to her brother and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me." she said softly, almost whispering. "You've always been there for me Chris. Ever since mom and dad died...you took on more responsibility than anyone ever should at your age."

"Claire..."

"Why don't you let me be there for you for a change? You can tell me anything. _Anything at all. _You know that. I won't judge you."

Chris's upper body seemed to go limp and he looked at the floor.

"What is it Chris?" Claire said. "Tell me what's done this to you."

"I...I'm out."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm out of the air force."

"_What_?"

"I resigned."

"_You resigned?_ I don't believe you. It was your dream..."

"I wasn't given much of a choice." Chris said softly. He leaned to the side and picked up a crumpled page that lay on a small wooden side table situated to the right of the couch. He handed it to Claire. She took it from him and scanned the few printed words, her eyes darting rapidly from side to side.

Claire's head suddenly snapped up and she looked directly at Chris. "This is bullshit. There's no way that you would do that."

Chris shrugged his shoulders.

"Chris, being in the air force is what you were born to do. You're good at it for chrissakes. There isn't another man on Earth that doesn't have as much honour and commitment as you do."

"Claire, it doesn't matter." Chris replied softly.

"You would _never_ do anything to put the lives of your men at risk. What _really_ happened?"

"It doesn't matter." Chris insisted.

"To hell it doesn't matter!" Claire was frustrated at the apparent apathy her brother was showing. For as long as she could remember, Chris had always wanted to be in the armed forces. He was naturally strong and athletic, and his strength of character and quick analytical mind made him a natural leader that garnered instant respect from everyone. She distinctly remembered the day he graduated at the air force academy. He looked so proud and handsome in his uniform. Nothing like the broken man she saw in front of her now. What could have happened that made him fall so far?

"Claire, there's nothing I can do about it now. The decision's been made, I'm out. Once you resign, that's it, there's no going back. Finished."

"I can't believe you're giving up like this. I knew General Keller was an asshole but this is just too much..."

"Look, I made a decision in the field and now I have to take the consequences for that. I'd make the same decision again if I had to – I'll never leave a man behind. _Never_. No matter what they tell me to do."

"Oh Chris..." Claire squeezed his shoulder again and smiled. "You're a stubborn one."

"If this charge didn't stick Claire, I'm sure something else would have sooner or later. No matter how many commendations you receive, if your face doesn't fit..."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know what else _to_ do. I'm...I'm a pilot. That's all I know what to do."

"Well, you can start by cleaning this place up. Then you're going to take a shower and I am going to take you out for breakfast and..."

The door bell suddenly rang.

"Do you think your friend forgot something?" Claire joked.

Chris shrugged. "Hope not."

"I'll get it. You make a start in here." Claire instructed, gesturing to the mess on the floor.

Chris smiled sadly as he watched his sister disappear through the door. He felt ashamed that she had seen him this way. He hadn't seen Claire since the previous autumn when he'd dropped her off at college. He was still in the air force at that time, and he remembered the look of pride on his sister's face as she introduced him to all of her friends and their families. Their own parents had died a few years before in a terrible accident that had left Chris, who was barely out of his teens and barely an adult himself, the only one to look after Claire. It had been a struggle, both financially and emotionally, but they managed to get past any obstacle life had thrown at them. The bond they had developed through the pain of losing of their parents was unbreakable.

Unbeknownst to Claire, his troubles in the airforce had begun before the autumn. He was a decorated member of the force with many commendations, although his strong willed nature often led him to confrontation with his superiors. He had an unshakable sense of right and wrong, and would never equate a human life with money or material objects. It was his refusal to abort a rescue mission that resulted in the loss of an army helicopter, which ultimately resulted in his forced resignation.

All Chris had now was his sister. He knew that she would look up to him regardless, that she would always look to him first for guidance or help. Right now, he didn't feel like he deserved that honour. He felt that he'd let her down, and that she should no longer be proud to introduce him to her friends. That was why he didn't tell her what had happened. He didn't want to disappoint her. He wanted the comfort in knowing that she was still ignorantly proud of him when no one else was.

Chris heard Claire turn the latch on the front door. The hinges squealed as she slowly opened it to reveal the outline of a tall, well built man.

"Well, it looks like Chris Redfield's little sister is all grown up!" the figure spoke with a deep voice.

Claire's eyes opened wide. "Barry!"

Chris appeared at the front door behind Claire. He stared at the man who was standing there, waiting to be asked in. His name was Barry Burton. He had been a former comrade and close friend of Chris's in the armed forces. Barry had resigned his position in the military shortly after the birth of his child. He had explained to Chris that he had wanted his child to have a full time father. He himself had been the son of a military family and he spent most of his childhood moving from base to base, never settling in a town long enough to make any friends, always worrying whether his father was going to come home. Barry never wanted his child to grow up without a father.

"It's good to see you Chris." Barry said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was coming..."

"How've you been? How's the family?" Chris said while simultaneously holding out his hand to his older friend. Barry reached out and firmly shook Chris's hand.

"They're great Chris, all of them. Thanks for asking. How are you going?"

"How do you think?" Chris replied sharply.

Barry cleared his throat. "Yeah, I heard what happened. I'm sorry Chris. It wasn't right what they did to you. I wrote you a recommendation you know. Told 'em they'd be crazy to let you go. I guess it didn't help in the end." his voice trailed off.

"No, I guess it didn't. Thanks anyway though Barry."

"Have you thought about what you'll do next? Have you found a new job?"

"I'm still between jobs." he sighed. "There aren't many openings in the paper this week for pilots and marksmen."

"Have you ever been to Raccoon City?"

"_Raccoon City_?" Chris said with surprise. "Why do you ask?"

"I have something that might interest you. The city's setting up a special task force there."

"A task force? What do you mean?"

"Top people, mainly ex-military like yourself who can respond to any critical situation. They've already got snipers, a demolition expert, medics...you name it."

"And what do you want with me?"

"We need a point man."

Chris turned his head slightly to see Claire who could barely hide her excitement.

"I don't know Barry..." Chris slowly shook his head. "I don't know if I want to go down that road again."

"Look – can I come in at least? We can talk about this a little more."

Chris looked at Claire who was now smiling. "I've got to check a couple of things on my bike." she interjected. "Why don't you guys go in and have a chat?"

"Err, yeah. Sorry, come in." Chris said as he stepped away from the door and gestured to Barry to come inside. "Sorry, it's a bit of a mess in here but I'm sure I can get you some coffee."

"That'd be great Chris." Barry replied as he followed Chris inside his apartment.

Claire decided not to follow them. Instead, she sat down on the doorstep and scanned the gravelled parking area in front of the apartment complex. She hugged her knees and rested her head on her arms as she looked at her motorbike that was parked immediately in front of the building. Instead of partying with her college friends, she had worked numerous poorly paid jobs over the summer to be able to afford it, but it was well worth it she reasoned. She loved nothing more than the freedom of being able to go anywhere she wanted, any time she wanted, with nothing but the wind beating her face.

Claire then noticed a black SUV parked at the edge of the gravel driveway, close to the road. A militaristic badge with the acronym S.T.A.R.S was painted on the driver's door. It must have been Barry's car. The windows were partially blacked out, but she could just discern the outline of man within. He seemed to be slim and possibly quite tall. He was wearing sunglasses and staring straight ahead, his body frozen. She sensed something strange, something almost _threatening_ about him. His stillness reminded her of a predator waiting in the grass for its prey. There was a sudden cold draft of wind and Claire shuddered. Her attention was suddenly diverted by the sound of Chris and Barry laughing inside the apartment. This made her happy. Chris had been good friends with Barry while in the forces. They'd been on many missions together and trusted each other's abilities and judgement without question. It seemed that Barry had reappeared at just the right time.

Claire returned her focus to the black SUV, and was startled to see that the man in the passenger seat was now staring directly at her. She couldn't make out any of his features through the darkened glass, although she sensed a smile. She looked away quickly and began to stand when Chris and Barry suddenly appeared at the front door behind her.

"You think about what I've said Chris. You can call the number on that card anytime, alright?"

"Thanks Barry." Chris replied. Claire noticed that he was holding a business card in his right hand branded with the same militaristic badge on the side of the black SUV.

"They're going to be a good team." Barry continued. "The best. And once we show them what we can do...who knows how many cities will have their own S.T.A.R.S unit."

"I'll be in touch." Chris said as he held put his open hand. "I just need to talk about this with Claire, okay?"

Barry took Chris's hand and shook it firmly. "You do that." he said, smiling. He glanced at the black SUV and his smile seemed to disappear for a brief moment. "Nice to see you again Claire. You stay in college alright?"

"I will, don't worry Barry."

Chris and Claire watched as Barry waved and made his way across the gravel path towards his car. Barry looked back at them a final time before he waved and got in the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Well, it sounds like you were getting on really well."

"He's a good man. It was a real shame he left the force, but I suppose having a family can really change things."

"Yeah, I guess it can. So what's 'S.T.A.R.S'? It sounds pretty intense."

"It's a special task force being set up in Raccoon City."

"What kind of task force?"

"Immediate response to situations that the standard law enforcement and rescue agencies can't handle. That's what Barry said anyway"

"Like what?" Claire laughed "What are they expecting? From what I've heard, Raccoon City is one of the most boring, uneventful places in the country!"

"You never know what might happen." Chris grinned in reply. "They seem pretty serious though. Some of the guys they've recruited are really highly qualified. Ex-marines, delta force, police department...you name it."

"Wow. And they want you to be a part of it. It sounds like an amazing opportunity Chris."

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

"_So why didn't you say yes straight away_? Look, the car's still there...tell him now."

The moment Claire finished her sentence, the engine of Barry's black SUV roared to life. The car was slowly manoeuvred away from the gravelled area in front of Chris's apartment block and onto the main road, before it pulled away and quickly disappeared from sight.

"Oh well, you have his number on the card, you should call him soon. Before he finds someone else!" Claire joked.

"I just wanted to see what you think before I make any big decisions." Chris's face suddenly became serious. "I'm going to have to move there, and we may see each other even less than we do now."

"Well find time for each other Chris, we always have done, don't worry about that." Claire wrapped her arm around Chris's waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I think this thing could really change your life."

"Yeah." Chris replied. "I think it will."

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Barry Burton checked his rear view mirror and pushed down on the accelerator pedal. Instantly, the car pulled out of the gravelled parking area in front of the apartment complex and onto the main road.

"He's in." Barry said, staring straight ahead. "He's an excellent pilot, top marksman, you name it. He may be a little hot headed at times, but he gets the job done. I can guarantee you that much."

The blonde haired man sitting in the passenger seat smiled. "Well done Barry, I think he's perfect. I know _exactly_ what I can use him for."

"He's a good man, we're lucky to get someone like him."

"Really?" The blonde man replied. "The air force, and General Keller in particular, seemed quite keen to let him go. I wonder why..."

"What the air force did to him was nothing short of criminal." Barry snapped. "His actions saved those marine's lives...it shouldn't matter that they lost a chopper."

They sat in silence as the black SUV snaked its way through the suburban streets and eventually pulled out onto the freeway as the sun slowly sunk below the horizon. Barry cursed under his breath as the bright headlights of a car travelling in the opposing direction almost blinded him. He glanced to the side to see his passenger who was still wearing a pair of sunglasses.

"Don't you ever take those things off?" he said, eager to break the silence.

The passenger didn't reply.

Barry glanced at a large illuminated road sign at the side of the freeway. In large black letters were the words 'Raccoon City – 219'.

"We'll be back in a couple of hours. Then we can get started." Barry said as he reached towards the car stereo, pressing the 'power on' button.

The blond haired passenger reached forwards and turned the stereo off. He then slowly turned to face Barry and smiled. "Oh, things have already started Barry. I have great plans for the S.T.A.R.S."

Unsure of what to make of his passengers comment, Barry continued to drive along the freeway towards Raccoon City in silence.

* * *


End file.
